


Silver and Gold: A Tale of Two Kings

by The_Evil_Critic_From_Hell



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, I'm going to add tags as I go, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Romance, Schizophrenia, Silver Snow Route, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22095469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Evil_Critic_From_Hell/pseuds/The_Evil_Critic_From_Hell
Summary: It is after the Battle at Gronder, and the three great armies of Foldan have been devastated. Having survived the battle by a stroke of luck, Dimitri decides the world would better off without him and places himself in self-exile. But Claude has other plans for him."Your Kingliness. Come with me. Come with me to Almyra."A tale of Silver Snow with elements of Verdant Wind. Or, Dimitri survives in Silver Snow and Claude is hunted.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	1. Two Kings Without Kingdoms

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and thank you for clicking on this journey with me. This story has been rattling in my brain for a while, and I simply had to write it. So, just some notes before we begin this tale:  
> 
> 
> 1\. This takes place in Silver Snow route
> 
>   
> I refuse to accept the fact that Dimitri may have died in Silver Snow, so this my alternative truth. With some Claude/Dimitri thrown in. So, spoilers for Silver Snow if you have not played it.  
> 
> 
> 2\. I'm dyslexic.
> 
>   
> Therefore, grammar and spelling is difficult. There may be mistakes. I have no editor or beta reader, so just a small heads up.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this piece. I'm not sure anyone will read this, but for the one or two of you who do, I hope you have fun! I... will try to finish this piece. (But I get discouraged easily, so please forgive me). I guess... Let me know how you guys feel about it. For all I know, this could become a one chapter story. Haha...ha....

The Battle of Gronder. A battle that had left three armies in near ruins and had taken many lives, and had left those who had survived the memory of blood, of flame, and of loss. And those listed dead and of the missing, the Duke of Reigan, the secret prince of Almyra, and the Prince of Faerghus were counted among them.

In history, this was the battle that would mark the end of both the Kingdom and the Alliance, for their armies were spent and their leaders were gone. Five long years of war had worn them down, twiddling them into mere pockets of soldiers and resistance fighters, living out their lives in fruitless battle for their nations. Only Emperor Edelgard remained, although injured, and the ever growing army of the Church of Seiros. It would seem that the end of the war may be in sight, but who the victor would be was anyone's guess. All people knew was that two great sovereign states were gone forever.

But far away from fallen friends and painful reminders of loved ones long gone, sat a little abandoned cabin. And it is here, the story begins. With a broken prince, and a mysterious figure who had just discovered his hideaway.

“I found you,” grinned the figure, as he stood upon the hill looking down at the prince, who was in for the surprise of his life.

***

The moon was low in the sky, large and unrelenting, as Dimitri finished stacking the freshly chopped firewood. His movements were slow and heavy, like molasses, as he carefully lined up each piece. There was much on his mind- a common occurrence for the man since the day he survived the Battle at Gronder. Not that he has had peace on his mind for nearly ten years. Not that he deserved it. 

Dimitri was not a stranger to hard labor and menial tasks often expected of servants rather than lords and noblemen, but he was not accustomed to the art of wood chopping. He was like a child with a new tool: clumsily and unsure. The split pieces were jagged and rough by an unpracticed hand; it was clear that the chopper lacked talent with an axe. The wood fit uncomfortably together, like puzzle pieces being forced together. The tower of wood was ugly and unbecoming, and even in a few places looked ready to topple over. But it was serviceable for its purpose. As he worked, he could hear them. The dead, whispering in his ears.

_Dastard of a son! You waste time when you should be seeking that woman’s head!_

_I once called you “Your Highness” but you are no longer worthy of that title._

_My son died for you, and this is how you repay me?_

Shadowy forms lurked around him, reaching out him. He could see their faces. The faces of those he failed. His father, Dedue, Rodrigue…. He could almost feel the touch of their cold, dark bodies, the icy graze of fingers brushing against his cheek and his neck…

The ring of his falling axe echoed through the forest around him. With the last block of wood split, Dimitri gathered up the remaining pieces to finish his stacking before heading into his cabin for the night. He felt heavy with exhaustion, an exhaustion that has plagued him for as long as he could remember. He desired rest and looked forward to a quiet evening underneath the thin covers of his cot. 

He heaved a sigh as his fingers lingered on the rough wood of his poor stacking. Absentmindedly his fingernails scratched at the bark, watching as it crumbled away. Winter would be coming to Fódlan soon, and while Dimitri was from the chilly north, even he was not immune to frostbite. Although, none of this preparation may be necessary, but there was still a part of Dimitri that wasn’t fully ready to accept that yet. Soon, perhaps.

But for now he could only go through the motions of survival. His hand slipped from the stack and he turned to glance up the hill towards the rising moon as he wondered what time it would be. Even a month ago, he had been surrounded by the army he had managed to scrap together to march against Edelgard, and by now they would have been sharpening their blades and polishing their armor. The sounds of war were never what they had been described as in Ashe's fairy tales and legendary chronicles. There had been no laughter, or declarations of excitement. Merriment had not been made. No, war sounded ugly. It sounded of scraping metal and the clink of heavy armor, and of men and women who hunched over warm fires, scarfing their rations down as if it would be their last. Some of them had been resolute, war-hardened and unafraid to die. Others were greener, as the look of fear had still hung over them like a stench.

But out here, deep in the woods of Fódlan where even the animals were scarce, there was no one except the ghosts of the dead. Out here, at the edges of Dimitri's world, offered the sounds of rustling leaves and whispering winds, and the occasional tinkling of rainfall. There was no fear, no expectations, no unjustified deaths. The smell of smoke came only from the fire pit, and it delighted the senses with the aroma of good oaks instead of burning flesh. It would have been perfect, if the deafening silence didn't magnified the screams of the fallen.

His gaze skimmed the tree line, seeking the large pale moon in the sky, when his attention fell upon a silhouette of a dark figure lurking on the hilltop.

In an instant fear gripped Dimitri as all of his nerves and muscles steeled themselves. He stared up at the figure with his sharp blue eye, unsure of what he was seeing. This one seemed different to the shadows of people long gone; it seem more solid and substantial. Dimitri was well away from civilization, a day or two of constant trekking at least, depending on which direction you took. Only warriors or a fool would dare come out this way, and if this figure was real, Dimitri was unsure of which one they would be.

He was not prepared for a fight. He had no desire to feel that rage that had fueled him for nearly five years. The lance he had taken with him, a dingy steel blade that was insignificant and unimportant, was currently resting inside the cabin. Even if he raced back inside now, there was no guarantee that he could outpace the figure, if the figure decided to attack. But those fears of the unknown, of the mysterious, faded as his eye adjusted and he could see the figure for who it was. There was a hitch in his chest as he stared in disbelief. 

Claude.

The two men stared at each other from their respective positions. Claude was grinning down at him from his spot on the hill, with an expression one would expect from a cat who has found a mouse. One hand on his hip as the other gave a short wave, toothy and clearly pleased with himself. Dimitri found himself rooted where he stood as a chill ran down his spine. Thoughts raced through his head but he could not focus on a single one, until it was Claude that made the first move.

“Your Kingliness!” called out the spirited man. He started down the hill, his steps light as if he had a slight skip in his step. “Long time no see!” 

The duke’s sudden approach alarmed Dimitri. With a small gasp from under his breath, he took a step back in an attempt to keep distance between him and Claude. He felt his elbow bump into his freshly stacked wood, and the top piece wobbled and fell to the earth. Claude slowed but did not stop. 

“Whoa, did I startle you? My mistake! I guess I did get the jump on you. But be honest, Your Kingliness, you weren’t expecting me to show up, were you?” As he spoke he glanced around the campsite, quickly taking it all in. 

It was rustic and clearly once abandoned. The wooden cabin was covered in flora and tilted just slightly to one side, as if it was in the process of falling over. Sticks and stones littered the unkempt clearing, and the odd piece of metal, rusting and old, stuck out dangerously from the ground. It was a place Dimitri had just happened upon and, because he found it empty, took up temporary residency here.

“Nice cabin, Your Kingliness," remarked the surprising guest, who was still dressed in his Leicester attire; the emblem of his nation still clearly on his shoulder. However, it was clear that some quick patch work and messy sewing had been done in a few places. But beyond that, the Duke Reigan looked put together- Shaven, washed, and well-fed. It only briefly reminded Dimitri what he must look like himself- dirty, messy, and malnourished.

“So," Claude continued, interrupting Dimitri's thoughts. He meandered around Dimitri to pick up the fallen piece of wood, and offered it to him. "What's a guy got to do around here to get a proper greeting?"

Dimitri stared at the wood, glanced up at Claude, then turned on his heel and briskly walked back to the cabin, breathing shallowly and rapidly. "Another one," whispered Dimitri to himself. "Why now? It's been nearly a month..." 

"Wha- Wait! Where are you going, Your Kingliness?" Claude called after him. When Dimitri elected to ignore him and vanished inside his sanctuary, Claude clicked his tongue and slotted the firewood he was still holding onto the pile and trotted after the prince.

The last piece of wood slid into its spot perfectly. 

There was no proper door in the doorway; only an old piece of cloth shoddily attached to the frame. Dimitri heard the rustling of fabric as Claude enter behind him, who was admiring the small room. It consisted of very little. A small bed along the far wall, a wooden table in the center of the room with a long bench, and a small fireplace just large enough to cook something over. Claude’s eyes flitted over to a small bottle on the table. He did not get to look long as Dimitri quickly swept the bottle from view to tuck it away on his person.

Dimitri's emotions ran rampant. The sudden appearance of an old classmate- someone who he had battled in a gruesome battle not to long ago- has thrown him off and his skin feel as cold as the chilly evening air. After all this time, he had thought that the faces of the past would no longer grow. That there would not be a new one to whisper hateful epitates in his ears. There had been some relief in that thought. But now, someone new has appeared, more real and louder than anything he has experienced before. 

His mind swam with fear.

“… How did you find me?” Dimitri asked low and solemnly. He kept his back towards Claude. His voice shook with a tremor, soft and broken. “Unless… are you here to haunt me too?”

“Haunt you, Your Kingliness?” The rogue royal attempted to sidestep Dimitri to face him as he spoke. His tone was chipper. “I’m not sure what you mean by that, but if that’s what it takes to get your attention, then I will gladly be your ghost!” There was a sharp intake of air from the blond man and he turned his head when he saw Claude in his peripherals. “You know, it’s rude not to face your guests.” 

There was a slight pause before Dimitri shuttered. “Claude… You did not answer the question.”

“Oh, you mean about how I found you? Well, it’s simple, really.” Then he chuckled. “Actually, that’s a lie. You are surprisingly a hard man to find, Your Kingliness. I had to track some rumors about a man in black with one eye being spotted in the forest at the farthest reaches of Fódlan. Some of the locals think of you as an apparition, so the rumors were most intriguing to hear.”

“I am not a king.” Not anymore. Nor was he ever, really. Dimitri lowered his gaze at the news. He had not expected rumors to follow his wake. “…Why are you here?”

“Hmmm,” Claude hummed at the question with mild amusement, but did not let silence hang in the air for long. “Let’s just say it was something of a whim.” Claude’s words were cryptic. A smirk was on his lips but his eyes were clear and intense. 

“Ha! A whim….” There was doubt in Dimitri’s voice. “You came to find me at the edges of Fódlan… on a whim?”

Claude chuckled. “The facts did not add up. Many claimed you died at Gronder, but no one could recall a body. I searched among the dead myself, but could not locate you. I could only reach a single conclusion: That you had survived.”

“And what if you had found nothing following these rumors? My body could have simply been taken as a trophy.”

“Does it matter? I found you, did I not?” 

“Hmph.” But Dimitri could not argue in return. While they spoke he thumbed the edge of the small wooden table as his heart raced. It has been ages since he saw a familiar face that did not whisper hateful epithets or demands of revenge, and he was unsure of how he should be feeling. 

"You know," Claude's tone was a teasing one, "for reuniting with an old friend, you do not seem particularly pleased to see me. Tell me it isn't so?"

The prince could not answer. It was true- he was not pleased to see Claude, whether he was alive and here or whether he had joined the ranks of the dead to haunt him. Instead, he just kept his head down, terrified of these sudden changes in his life. Dimitri had just started to finally grow used to the faces that stayed with him, and he was not ready for Claude's to be among them. Not when he had thought Claude had survived Gronder. 

“Claude. Why are you here? What do you want from me?” he finally croaked out. He feared the answer, but he could not stand the mystery.

“Actually, I have a question for you.” Claude leaned against the table, chin resting on the palms of his hands. “Why are you out here all alone?”

Hearing that question, the prince flinched. It was not one he expected. “Pardon?”

“Don’t worry, I promise to answer your question, so long as you answer mine first!” A foxy-like grin dominated the duke’s face. “So, why are you out here? Last time I saw you, you were determined to put Her Majesty’s head on a stick.”

_KILL. KILL HER. YES, THAT IS WHAT YOU SHOULD BE DOING. AVENGE US. AVENGE US, YOU NAÏVE FOOL. FAILURE. FAILURE. WE WANT HER HEAD._

Knuckles turned white when Dimitri gripped the corner of the table as he suddenly felt light-headed. His breath hitched as his mind went back to that burning battlefield. There had been so much screaming. So much death and smoke. He heard Claude move towards him quickly. He could see from the corner of his eye Claude’s arm reaching out for his elbow. 

“Whoa there, are you alrig-“

He felt his heart pound as his whole body jerked. “Do not touch me,” Dimitri hissed as his anger suddenly rose. He stumbled away from the duke, before taking a large, calming breath. The voices faded back into whispers and his heart slowed as the fires in his memories were replaced with the present. “I… I am sorry, but please… Refrain from touching me.” 

For a moment nothing was said. Then at length, Dimitri finally answered the question that had been asked. This phantom deserved an answer. “This is... my repentance."

"Repentance?"

A shaky breath was inhaled. "I-I... I alone survived, Claude. A fool of a man, who led countless to their deaths. Everyone... Everyone who had faith in me. They died for me, but I lived. That is why..." Dimitri's gaze lifted to the lance that leaned against the wall, the one he had traded Areadbhar in favor of after the battle. "What little left there is, it should not be on me to lose it. Not after what I have done."

Claude did not reply to this, and instead attempted to step into Dimitri's line of sight once again. But the prince refused him, too ashamed to face his old friend and classmate, even if he was a specter. "Your Kingliness-" the duke started to say, but Dimitri cut him off.

"Now please," whispered Dimitri, nearly begging. "Why are you here?"

He heard Claude shuffled his feet slightly. "... Well, you did answer my question, so I guess it's only fair that I keep my word," answered Claude, although that usual joking edge was gone. "I'm here to whisk you away. For you to come with me." 

Finally, the blond man turned to stare at Claude. His eyebrows were furrowed, startled by this declaration. “This is unlike you, Claude. And what do you expect to gain from having me?”

“Aw, do I always have to do something that benefits me?” When he did not receive an answer, he jokingly placed a hand over his heart. “Ouch. Although I suppose not unwarranted. Always the honest one, aren’t you, Your Kingliness?”

“I have already told you… I am no king.”

There was a blink and a slight pause before Claude continued on as if he did not hear that. “Well, I’ll be frank then. I had hoped to use your status and your power to help me achieve my goals in Almyra.” 

The exiled prince stared. “That is… pretty frank of you to admit. But you are wasting your time. I have no power or status. I am a murderer, a monster who deserves nothing. Whatever your goals are in Almyra, I am not the one to help you.” Then he tilted his head inquisitively. “Almyra? Why Almyra? What happened with the Alliance?”

Everything about Claude had always been unusual, but surely this was strange. About six or seven years ago, Claude appeared out of nowhere as the next duke apparent of the Alliance. The previous Duke Reigan had no heir for many years, so it was expected that House Gloucester would be taking the high seat among the Five Great Families at their roundtable. This all changed when Claude was suddenly announced to be prior Duke Reigan’s successor, and sent his grandson to the academy at Garreg Mach. 

Enigmatic and charismatic during their school year Claude had been, and quite the stir he had brought. No one, even now, knew much about his past. But he had inherited the Alliance not long after the war began. He had duties to his people, his sovereignty. He had been leading his country for nearly five years now. What could possibly be in Almyra that would make Claude give up so much? Doubt of Claude's death crept into Dimitri's mind. Could a specter have desires beyond seeking revenge for their untimely demise?

“Well, I’ve had a lot of plans for a long time,” said Claude slowly. “I’ve realized that getting wrapped up in this war has kept me from truly realizing my dreams. So, I’ve handed off the Alliance to a few trusted individuals and came here to find you! I figured that lying to you about using you would be pointless, so I don’t mind sharing.”

“You-“ But Dimitri held his tongue. Claude abandoned the Alliance? While shocking as it may seem to Dimitri, he could not hold it against him. After all, he was no better. Instead of questioning him, Dimitri simply let out a sigh. “I see.”

“Don’t worry, the Alliance will be alright without me. They never needed me anyways." Despite trying to be reassuring, Claude failed to convince Dimitri that any of this made sense. 

Instead, Dimitri just shook his head and turned away from his guest again. "Go back, Claude. There is nothing for you here." It mattered not if the duke was alive or dead. It was clear that he was not the person Claude should be seeking out. Ghost or otherwise, the duke was wasting his time on a living corpse such as himself.

"But," Claude glanced outside, where only the night of the moon illuminated the forest, "it's late. Surely, Your Kingliness, you would not send out a poor soul like me to wander the woods at this time of night?"

A sigh. "... Fine. Sleep here tonight, if you must. But tomorrow, go back home, Claude."

***

But Claude did not leave the follow morning. Nor the next. Instead, he woke up Dimitri every morning with a smile and an abundance of good cheer, rummaging through Dimitri’s stores for a bit of breakfast. He chattered away at Dimitri, who made no move to engage with him, as the self-exiled prince wandered through his typical day the best he could. He had hoped that by ignoring Claude that the man would eventually just give up and go away, to leave him to his quiet peace and to be alone as he should be. But as the days turned into a week, it became clear that Claude had no intention of simply giving up. Dimitri was unsure if this was in character or unusual, but Claude seemed determined nonetheless. 

The onslaught of companionship did not cease. Claude followed him when Dimitri when foraging. He followed him to the river when Dimitri went to draw water or to attempt to wash the dirt from his hair. He almost did not even get privacy when it came to the matters of nature, but Claude seemed to draw the line there- thank the gods. But that was all the respite he got. Even when night drew to a close, Claude made a simple nest of spare scraps of cloth nearby where Dimitri slept. Somehow, Claude outlasted Dimitri each evening in terms of wakefulness, despite Dimitri’s infliction of insomnia. At first, Dimitri was unsure if he would be able to sleep with an unwelcomed, untrusted guest so close by. However, eventually his eyelids betrayed him and fitful slumbers overtook him. Perhaps it was because he was familiar with Claude, from their time at the monastery, that his mind tricked him into thinking he was in safe company. He cursed his nature. Even after all that has happened, even after Claude had battled him at Gronder, the naïve part of him that trusted others had not fully withered away. 

On the sixth day when Dimitri awoke to the smell of freshly cooked meat, he had had enough. He rose from his cot to see Claude leisurely gnawing at his meal, and to see his bright green eyes glint towards him.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty! I found your stash, and thought a treat was in order.” He patted to the left side of the bench. “I made some for you too. It’s not too bad, if I do say so myself!” 

“Claude.”

The duke slowed his chewing. His hand lingered where they had indicated next to him as he was suddenly watching Dimitri intently. Dimitri did not blame him for his reaction, although was surprised he said nothing and was waiting for Dimitri to continue talking. After all, he had not spoken to him directly this past week, only responding with sighs or grunts rather than words.

The blond man let out a thick sigh as he pushed his limp hair back, his fingers laced through the dirty gold. He stopped when he reached the strap of his eyepatch before turning to face his guest. 

“Enough.”

“Aw, but it would be such a waste to throw out this foo-“

“No, I-…” he huffed with slight exasperation. “Please, Claude, you know what I mean…”

There was a strain in his voice, as if he was holding back a small sob. Claude lowered his makeshift utensil as the laughter from his face died. “Dim- Your Highness,” his tone was softer, gentler, as he stood up. He carefully made his way to the edge of the cot and crouched by the other man’s side. There was a heavy silence between them as they looked at each other, the both of them trying to read the other before they spoke again. 

At last, Dimitri reached out and brushed his fingertips against Claude’s shoulder. He shuddered at the solidness of his old classmate. That underlying fear that Claude was another specter, another face to haunt his days endlessly, had never gone away since his arrival, and so Dimitri had avoided any contact with him until this moment. But there was no question now. Claude was alive. He was not haunting him.

He withdrew but remained silent. Claude did not move, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“Your Kingliness. Come with me. Come with me to Almyra.” 

“… No.”

A huff escaped Claude’s lips. “Why are you being so difficult? You and I have nothing for us here. You will be killed the moment you are discovered by the Imperial army; Edelgard would be sure of that. Unless you plan to go back to retake your home?” 

Dimitri’s gaze lowered. “I do not have the forces or the means to do such a thing.” 

“Then-“ the duke moved to lay his hand near Dimitri’s upon the blanket but did not touch him. “Do not stay here in this shack. If you are going to live in this self-exile, wouldn’t you rather do it somewhere warm and where no one would ever recognize you?”

The golden-haired prince said nothing. He only kept his eye downward towards the floor, unmoving in all aspects. There were some things that simply could not be said out loud, some dark secrets that he could not divulge that kept him rooted here. Someone like Claude would not understand, nor did he need him to. He just needed the man to leave. To return to where he came from without him. 

_Coward. Fool. Failure._ The voices whispered endlessly. 

After a long pause, Claude let out a grunt as he stood, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Alright, you win. I know there is no way I can force you to do anything, Your Kingliness.” 

“Do not… call me that,” said Dimitri, barely above a whisper, to everyone. 

“Anyway, I thought it would be worth the trip to try,” continued Claude, as if Dimitri did not speak. He sat back down in front of his breakfast and patted beside him once again. “Now why don’t you come join me at least for a bit of food? Then, you can see me off and we will never have to meet again.” 

For a moment it seemed as if the prince would not move from his cot. But at length, he finally rose and shuffled over to the seat next to Claude, gingerly sinking down next to him. He was stiff and unsure, but his stomach betrayed him as it let out a growl of hunger. He flushed red at the noise. 

“I-I’m sorry, Claude.” 

“Don’t be!” The duke threw his head back in laughter. “You’ve barely eaten these past few days!” 

“No, I mean… All of this. It is nothing against you, I promise. I just…cannot go-“ But as he spoke, he was suddenly interrupted as Claude raised a makeshift fork to Dimitri’s lips, a piece of meat skewered at the end. 

“I can take a hint. I know when I’m not welcomed! Trust me,” Claude said casually. “Now say ‘Ah’!” 

“I _can_ feed myself.” As carefully as he could, he took the fork from Claude’s hand and began to munch away at the small meal. Although Dimitri could not see it, there was a tender smile on the duke’s lips as he watched the larger man eat. Claude leaned on his palm as he looked at the prince, but when Dimitri turned to glance at him he was already back to eating himself. 

And thus, the two of them ate in relative silence. Despite having lived with Claude for six days now, his presence was still strange. Dimitri had been on his own for a very long time; holding long conversation where cumbersome and difficult. However, Claude did not seem to be in the talking mood, which was rare and welcomed. Dimitri had always remembered him as a chatterbox back in their school days, although he hadn't always hated it. But now, this kindness was wasted on him. It would be better for Claude to find another companion to talk with.

When the meal was over, Claude gathered up his bow and headed outside, with Dimitri in tow. Although Dimitri was glad that Claude was leaving without a fight, a part of him felt a tug of guilt. Claude had come all this way for nothing. But Dimitri had nothing to offer him. He was worthless, useless... And should stay here where he could no longer hurt anyone.

When they were near the clearing's edge, Claude turned and gave Dimitri the largest of smiles. "I am glad you are alive, Your Kingliness. It's just a shame that you will not be joining me. I could have really used you, you know."

"I am sorry..."

"Don't be." Shifting his bow across his back, the duke offered Dimitri a short wave. "Well, I hope we meet again in the future. Although I did say we do not have to meet again, I would really like to. Now I just hope I make it back alive so we _can_ meet again." 

_Again in the future_ echoed in Dimitri's head. His mind wandered to the bottle hidden next to his chest before his head whipped around. “Hold on, Claude.” He did not like the sound of what his old classmate had just said. “What do you mean, you hope you make it back alive?”

“Oh… I suppose I forgot to tell you. My wyvern died at Gronder, see, so now I have to trek it all the way back to Almyra alone.” Claude's smile did not reach his eyes. “Why else would I have been on the ground during the battle, remember?” 

“You cannot be serious!” exclaimed Dimitri. He covered his mouth as he stared in awe at the smaller man. “You… You came all this way without a mount? On the assumption that I was still alive?” 

“Don’t think about it too hard, Your Kingliness,” cackled the duke, not looking as bothered as Dimitri felt he should have. “It was paramount that I move quickly, so I did not take the time to seek another ride. I wanted to be as discreet as possible while I looked for you. Turned out to be a good thing, too. There is no way a horse or wyvern would be able to get into a forest so thick here.”

"That's was... foolish, even for you. Why did you bother to come looking for me at all so ill prepared?"

A look crossed Claude's face that Dimitri could not place, but it only lasted a second. "Because I wanted to." He stared at Dimitri intently, as if watching for his reaction.

Dimitri was not sure what he was hoping for. “Surely, I could not be so vital to this… grand scheme of yours that you could not have found a horse or a mule,” Dimitri’s disbelief was on display for all to see. It only now occurred to him that he had no idea what Claude's plan even was; he never mentioned any details. "What exactly were you hoping to use me for?"

There was a second where Claude's expression changed again slightly. Was it... disappointment? Dimitri was unsure, because it was replaced with a charming grin. "It's really nothing beyond," insisted Claude. "And it does not matter. But there is a lot of land between me and Almyra, and a lot of Imperial soldiers too. I may not be the leader of the Alliance anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm safe from assassination. So, I better get going."

He turned to leave. Dimitri sucked in his breath. Claude, dying? The thought made his skin crawl and his heart beat loudly. Claude was clever and resourceful, so surely he would be fine, though... However, Claude seemed pretty sure that he may be in danger. Dimitri... didn't like that. Now that he knew Claude was truly alive, he wanted it to stay that way. He pressed his lips together as his mind raced, calculating all the possibilities and likelihoods. Claude was right; there _was_ a lot of land between here and Almyra. Not to mention Fódlan's Locket, and the numerous enemy garrisons and stations....

 _Will you let him die? Will you let him die like you let us die?_ taunted the voices, and in that moment Dimitri knew what he had to do. 

Claude had only made it a few steps when he heard, "Wait." He paused as Dimitri raced back to his cabin, then emerged with his lance in hand. ".... I'll make sure you do not die, Claude."

The look on Claude's was a mixture of absolute delight and knowing, as if somehow he knew that Dimitri would say this. But before he could say anything, Dimitri held up a hand to stop him. "Do not misunderstand. I am not going to Almyra. I will make sure that you get there safely. After that, we will part out ways."

Claude's grin only faltered for a second, but he did not sound disappointed. "Glad to hear it! It will be good to get you out of the house." He winked and chuckled at his own joke. "Got everything you need, Your Kingliness?"

Dimitri could feel the hardness of the bottle against his chest, and he nodded. Satisfied, Claude gestured out in front of him, and the pair of them slipped into the forest, and began their long trek to Almyra together. 

***

On the field of Gronder, a horrific scene of an enormous battle lay about the once green earth; the stench of blood and death hung in the air as it all sank into the grass. Limbs and weapons were laid about. Soldiers and steeds alike had breathed their last here. Corpses were everywhere and it seemed it would take a lifetime to gather them and bury them all. It was vile, and for two of Fódlan’s largest armies, the biggest failure known in their short histories. 

Claude was leaning against a tree at the edge of the field, out of sight of those looking for their dead loved ones except to those who knew he was there, eyes closed as he was lost in thought. His clothes were tattered and stained red, from his own blood and from the blood of many strangers who probably had a loved one looking for them in Gronder. Occasionally, Claude could hear a scream of dismay as a soldier discovered someone they knew laying upon the ground, but mostly the world was filled with wails and prayers to the goddess on desperate lips. 

He clutched Failnaught close to his chest, feeling its seemingly alive form pulse underneath his arms, as if it brought him a sense of comfort. He kept his head hung low, until he heard the sound of feet crunching towards him. He opened an eye to peer at the approaching person, and saw Hilda making her way towards him. She herself had fared little better in the battle that day. Mud and blood covered her from head to toe as she dragged her axe, Freikugal, behind her as she wobbled over, exhausted. Huffing as she drew close, she planted her axe into the ground and leaned onto it for support, and let out a sigh. 

“I did as you asked,” she stated, then shook her head. “He wasn’t there on the west side. But I overheard some Kingdom soldiers saying they saw him go down in battle. Claude…” She shifted her eyes away from Claude’s intense green ones. “… I saw him too. He was surrounded by Imperial soldiers. I know he’s strong but… I don’t think he made it.” 

When Claude did not answer, she frowned with worry. “Claude? Did you hear me? I said that I think Dimitri is dead. Even his army seems to think so, saying that the Kingdom has died with their future king. They found his Hero's Relic, too.” 

“No, I heard you,” Claude finally answered at length. He reached down and pulled a vulnerary from his waist to take a swig. He wiped his mouth dry with his sleeve and pushed away from the tree. “But you said there was no body?”

“Not that I sa- Wait, don’t tell me you think he’s still alive?” Hilda balked disapprovingly. “You saw him in battle; he was wild. Like an animal. I’ve never seen someone so full of hatred and rage as Dimitri was. Surely if he was still alive, we would hear him storming across the battlefield and after Edelgard.”

“Let’s just say… It’s a gut feeling,” Claude offered Hilda a smile, but Hilda was not amused. 

“Do not play games with me, Claude. Don’t think for a second that I have forgotten what you said earlier. Do you really intend to leave the Alliance behind?” Reaching out and grabbing his arm, Hilda gripped him with surprising strength. “But why? I know we lost a lot of our army today, but we still have a chance, we-“ 

“Hilda.” Claude rested a hand over hers, which silenced her briefly. “Can I trust you to keep your promise?”

She blinked slowly. “… Yes, of course you can. I won’t tell a soul about where you went. But I don’t understand…”

“I’m sorry, Hilda.” Claude gently pulled her hand free from his sleeve and held it for a brief moment. “But this is something I must do. It would take more than time than I have to explain everything. I just need you to trust me.” 

“…Fine,” Hilda said begrudgingly. She huffed and looked away, to hide the small tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “Go on your stupid mission or whatever.”

“Thank you.” Claude gave her hand a squeeze before he began to hobble away, making sure to take another sip of his vulnerary as he did. Hilda stood there silently, watching him leave, before calling out.

“Hey, Mr. Boss Man!” Claude paused as she continued, “If you find him… You are going to lie to him, aren’t you?”

Claude stood there quietly, before answering, “Of course I’m going to have to lie. Dimitri wouldn’t believe me if I told him the truth about why I want him to come with me.” 

“You realize you are an idiot, right?” mumbled Hilda. But she no longer had the energy to argue or debate with her friend and instead, waved him away. “Just do not come crawling back to me when you don’t find him, or if this all blows up in your face. Dimitri deserves better, especially after what you did, so don’t screw it up.” 

“I do not intend to,” chuckled Claude dryly. And with that, he vanished from Gronder, and from the knowing world.


	2. A Monster in Hamlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri and Claude look for a place to stop for the night.

_One Month Ago_

“… It’s been a lifetime… Hasn’t it, Professor?” said Dimitri softly as he approached the man he had not seen in nearly five years. He watched as Byleth whipped around at the sound of his voice, eyes wide and mouth agape at the very sight of the black-cladded man. The prince did not blame him for his old professor’s astonishment, although perhaps it was still a sight to see, for Byleth had never been one for expressive emotion. All the same, the moment Dimitri saw him, he felt a strange sense of ease.

In truth, he was not sure why he sought out his professor after all this time. Dimitri had not even been in Byleth’s class, since Byleth had been given the Black Eagles to lead instead. They had exchanged words and even a few lessons, but did not have a chance to develop a deep bond. And yet, here he was, after half a decade, still covered in the blood from the men he had slain and longing to throw his arms around the professor for even a small sense of stability. But he dared not stain the other man. He dared not pass on the blood that was his burden to bear. 

He watched as relief passed over Byleth’s face. Byleth shook his head as he took a few steps closer, clearly in disbelief. “I thought you were dead,” whispered Byleth. 

“And I you,” Dimitri wanted to say but found himself unable to. Those years when he had thought Byleth had died, when he had lived among the slums and survived off of rats and rage… They had been difficult. He had only clung to the hope that perhaps one day, he could finally have Edelgard’s head. That alone had allowed him to continue to live. It gave him something to wake up to in the morning. It had fueled every fiber of his being. But now, he felt deflated. Directionless. The desire to separate Edelgard's skull from her body was gone, and replaced with emptiness. And in his aimless wandering, he found his feet carrying him straight to someone he felt may have some answers. In truth, he probably should not even be here in front of someone like Byleth, someone who made Dimitri feel safe. 

But he still remembered. Remembered when word had reached his ears before Gronder that Byleth was alive and leading an army of his own against the Empire. Deep within Dimitri there had been elation; his heart had leapt to his throat at the news. Gustave had been sent as an envoy to Byleth’s army to request aid for the upcoming battle, but had come back empty-handed. Dimitri had not felt betrayed, however. Angry, perhaps. Hurt, yes. But somehow, Dimitri had felt this was the ways things should be, and now that he was with Byleth again, he felt that this was true more than ever.

“Yes… I thought so too,” was his answer at last. He hung his head, looking small and lost. “I wanted to slice her throat… but I did not get the chance.” 

No explanation was needed; Byleth knew he meant Edelgard. Dimitri continued, his gaze downcast as the confession of his sins flowed from his mouth. “I let people die, and yet… I still stand.” He felt his lip quiver as the faces of those he failed appeared around him. “Rodrigue, Gustave, Dedue…” 

It felt heavy to admit that. To admit out loud that he had been the cause of their deaths. If he did not exist, if he had only been half the man they had been… perhaps they would still be alive today. Why, when he had been the fool, did they die and he lived? Why were they the ones who suffered the consequences of his folly?

Dimitri could not look Byleth in the eye. 

But the professor did not run away. He did not throw accursed words at him, or draw his blade to slice him down. Instead, he just stood there, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. “There must be a reason you survived,” said the green-haired man gently and with conviction. 

If he had not felt such shame, Dimitri may have snorted in amusement. Not that Byleth said something humorous, but rather the irony of it all was a giant, tasteless joke. However, laughter was something Dimitri could not longer express, and instead Dimitri mused sadly, “You sound just like Rodrigue." The man he had admired, he had seen as a second father and had hoped to become like… dead on his account. But even still, the same advice now echoed from Byleth. “A reason.”

The prince shook his head. His eyes felt wet, but no tear fell. “Everyone gives such complicated advice, and I can never quite grasp it all.” 

What was the secret that men like Byleth and Rodrigue knew? What eluded him? Both of them seemed to know something that he did not. He could not understand what they meant. A reason to survive? He knew that they were not empty words, but he did not possess the key to unlock their meaning. He could not fathom any reason for his survival, because he had nothing left. No army. No purpose. No friends, or family. They all dried up, because of him.

He inhaled as the dead began to close in around him, a constant reminder of his misdeeds. “That is why…” Dimitri began. All the moisture from his mouth was gone, and his stomach twisted in a knot. He did not deserve to be in throwing himself at Byleth’s feet, as if he was seeking mercy or forgiveness. But here and now had to be the confession of his sins, and... “Professor. I came here to explain my decision.”

The professor continued to be relentlessly gentle. “What decision?”

Dimitri's heart raced. “I have no resources to take back the Kingdom capital, much less to defeat the Empire. And that is why…” And in that moment, he dared to glance up at Byleth. He wanted to look at him when he told him about what he intended to do, what repentance he deserved for the weight of his wrongdoings. But the words died on his tongue as he saw Byleth suddenly begin to fall. Despite his convictions about not touching his professor before, Dimitri did not hesitate to catch him before he hit the ground. At first, he was worried that Byleth was ill, but quickly realized that the man had simply fallen asleep, and now was dozing quietly in his arms.

"P-professor?" But the sleeping man did not respond, looking at peace. Dimitri could not believe it; how could Byleth suddenly fall asleep in a moment such as this? Did he pass out? He did look a bit pale... Was he not getting enough rest?

The war was hard on everyone; it must be no different for a man such as Byleth. Heaving a sad sigh, Dimitri reached out and gently brushed some of Byleth's bangs from his forehead as he gazed at his calm face. Just when he was about to tell him what he intended to do... Well, perhaps it did not matter. He suspected Byleth would attempt to stop him. Maybe that's why he sought him out. Maybe he secretly wanted to be stopped. For someone to take his hand and help him find the light again. But, perhaps this was for the best. He has made his decision. No matter how he may feel about it deep down, this was truly going to be for the best in the end. He truly believed that. 

Byleth took a deep breath and Dimitri shivered. Unable to stop himself, he started to reach to hold Byleth's hand. Dimitri knew he was blood stained. He knew that by even touching Byleth he was staining him too. It mattered not if the blood on his body was already dry. And yet, Dimitri wanted more than anything to....

As he reached for Byleth's hand, he leaned down closer to also press his forehead against Byleth's. He... He just... Maybe if things had been different, if Byleth had lead his class, maybe they could have been closer. And then, maybe, they... 

But before his fingers could lace between Byleth's, and before their forehead's touched, Dimitri froze when he heard footsteps coming their way. He whipped upright in fear and withdrew his hand to bring it up to his mouth in horror. He... he didn't deserve to take Byleth's hand, what was he doing?! In a panic, realizing that he should not be seen here, he quickly laid the professor down gently and jumped back onto his feet. He stared down at the man, who remain unaware of what was happening. He looked blissful. Dimitri should not be taking that away from him. No, he shouldn't be here anymore... Not before he did something he would regret once more...

It was time.

“I’m sorry...” whispered the broken prince. He spun around to leave, but paused. His lip quivered. He should go. He should be walking away now. But... but maybe....

Then he saw Rodrigue's face.

Dimitri's breathing hitched. His body shook as he stared at the dead man, his hand still covering his mouth. Rodrigue was speaking to him, louder that the footsteps of whoever was just around the corner. A fire burned in the man's eyes; blood frothed from his mouth.

_Murderer. Monster. Boar._

And by the time Seteth spotted Byleth sleeping in the dirt, Dimitri had already vanished into the wilderness, fleeing from a salvation he did not deserve while the screams of the dead echoed behind him. 

***

__

_Present Day_

“Disguises?” asked Dimitri, a slight frown on his face. The pair had stopped by a small stream to freshen up, and Dimitri was stooped down by the bed of the water with his hands cupped for a quick drink. 

They had already covered quite a bit of ground over the course of that day and now found themselves in an unfamiliar part of Fódlan. Here the forest was thick and old, with very little signs of civilization. From time to time they would come across an trail, some recently traveled while others abandoned, but for secrecy stuck to simply trekking through the brush. Nothing beautiful grew other than tall, ancient trees and heavy vines. The forest was grey and crowded with overbearing oaks and twisted, knotted roots. The air was dense and had a chill, as if they were breathing in the air of a millennium past. 

Shivering slightly, Claude nodded in response as he leaned against a particularly large tree. He had already drunk his fill and waited patiently for Dimitri to finish. “Preciously. I hate to break it to you, Your Kingliness, but neither of us are exactly nondescript in Fódlan. We are recognizable. If we plan to travel any further, we are going to need to transform ourselves.” He shook his head and muttered, “How you managed to stay hidden for so long looking the way you do I will never know.”

The prince lifted his head. “Pardon?”

“Nothing.” Rubbing the back of his head, Claude decided to distract himself by digging the tip of his boot into the dirt. “Anyway, I suggest we find a nice quiet hamlet, pick up some supplies, and go from there.”

A lurch caught in Dimitri’s throat at the suggestion as his muscles tensed. Go into a place full of people? People he left behind, that he betrayed? No, he could never do such a thing. He could not face them. With a gulp, he glanced over his shoulder to speak. 

“I do not think… that will be necessary. We have both managed to hide ourselves just fine all this time. Surely it is unnecessary to put ourselves at risk.” 

“We’ve been lucky, but that luck will not hold out forever, especially as we near the Almyran border. Once we are past Fódlan’s Locket, it will not matter anymore, but until then we are walking targets.” Claude smiled. “You chose a good place for exile. There hasn’t been any fighting so far down south. Honestly, if I did not know any better, I would have thought Fódlan was in a time of peace with how quiet it is. However, we will eventually be going into the thick of it. We should take all precautions while we can.”

 _Into the thick of it_ echoed in Dimitri’s mind. His fingers curled at the thought of seeing more fighting and more death, and the images of faces danced in front of his vision. Angry, spitting expressions that mocked and ridiculed him and begged for respite. Biting his lip was all he could do to calm himself without drawing attention to his condition. But then his mind caught up to all that had been said, and he spun around as he stood. 

“We? Past Fódlan’s Locket?” His attention caught elsewhere, the voices softened and the faces faded slightly. “Have you already forgotten, Claude? I said I would take you past the danger, but not out of Fódlan.” 

There was a pause. “… Ah!” Claude suddenly chuckled. “You are right, of course. You did say that. But the danger may not stop till we are past the fortress. So let’s not count anything out yet.” 

“Claude-“

“Anyway,” continued the duke with little regard to Dimitri’s objection, “We should get going and keep an eye out for a small village or town. Trust me, it will be better this way in the long run.” 

A frown pulled at Dimitri’s lips but he refrained from arguing further. He hadn’t the heart to play word games with his travel companion, even if it meant bringing him a great discomfort. Dimitri had purposely desired to stay away from people after his defeat at Gronde r, and the mere thought of reconnecting with society made his heart pound hard within his chest. It only now properly dawned on him that more than likely… this was going to be inevitable. To see people again, to see them laughing and to see them suffering. His decision to join Claude across Fódlan had been in the heat of the moment, a second of weakness, and therefore he had not fully considered the consequences. Even when he lived in isolation for all those years, he would still see soldiers and merchants from time to time. 

Flashes of faces contorted his vision, and his hand leapt to his chest. His fingers knocked hard against the small vial he had hidden there, and he allowed himself a moment feel the rounded shape of it through his thick furs. This brought a sense of calm. He caught Claude eyeing him, so he dropped his arm and cleared his throat. 

“If you feel… that this is the best way… Then let’s look for a quiet village. Any place that has not been touch by the war would be ideal.”

Now that they had a plan and water in their stomachs, they set off once again. Dimitri had purposely driven himself as far into the wilderness as he could before he settled on the abandoned cabin in the woods, so he knew they would likely not see any settlement until at least evening time, if they were lucky. People had barely settled so far to the edges of Fódlan, so it might even take a few days before they find anything at all. In truth, the prince was not sure himself. He had not been in the best of minds when he had traveled through these parts; the trees and rocks all looked familiar and blended together into a mosaic of confusion. 

But Claude seemed to have a direction in mind. He pushed through the thickets with a sense of purpose and knowing, and his pace had quickened. Before long, it became clear that he seemed to have paid better attention to his own travels, sometimes turning at an unremarkable rock as if it was the most extraordinary path marker or pushing back what seemed to be an impregnable wall of flora to reveal a small clearing for them to walk through. If Dimitri had been another man, Claude’s extreme attention to detail may have brought him shame; however, when he had passed this way the first time, Dimitri had expected it to be a one way trip with no return. It had been unnecessary to take note of his surroundings the first time.

Regardless, none of that mattered anyway. At least one person knew where they were going, and that would prevent them from aimlessly wandering through Fódlan. They passed by countless trees and unusual boulders, and trekked across many streams and shallow pools of water as the light through the thick green rooftop of leaves began to dance with oranges and yellows. The setting sun reminded them that the day was fading fast. 

Surprisingly to Dimitri, Claude did not speak much during this journey. He hummed from time to time, and softly sang songs that were foreign to his ears, but overall refrained from idle chatter. Still, Dimitri would catch Claude peeking back at him every once in a while. The prince could only surmise that it was to see if Dimitri was still following, but there was a look upon the duke’s face that could not be placed. Guesses raced through Dimitri head, but none of them seemed to match. Pity? Amusement? Smugness? None of these felt correct. 

When it felt like they were never going to find a place with a roof to rest for the night, Claude finally pulled back another curtain of leaves, and smiled. “Ta-da!” proclaimed Claude as he presented the view of a small settlement to his companion. Dimitri could see that they were on top of a hill leading down to a small dell, where a hamlet sat nestled within the clearing. Small buildings dotted the landscape; the few that were there were mostly small log cabins that were likely homes rather than shops or inns. It was remote and isolated, and likely on a road less traveled; it would not be a surprise if they rarely received company. Dimitri was shocked that they were so close to a settlement at all. He had thought he had driven himself farther into the woods. He was just a day away from people this whole time?

Dimitri’s heart thudded hard in his chest at the prospect of seeing people. “Here? Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely!” Claude beamed. “We can rest here for the night and get some things for the road. Don’t count it out because it is so small.” He winked. “But room and board may be cramped. We may have to share a bed, Your Kingliness.” 

Although the joke felt in poor taste, Dimitri felt his ears burn. “W-what? Don’t be ridiculous. I can sleep on the floor.” 

“Pfft!” Claude giggled at Dimitri’s response. “Always so serious. I suppose I should have expected that.” Then he beckoned Dimitri to follow him. “Come on, then. We can figure out the details once we are there.”

There was a second of hesitation from Dimitri as he glanced down towards the buildings with worry and guilt. Rodrigue as looking at him now, shaking his head with shame. Lambert was beside him, muttering curses and desires of revenge. They glared at Dimitri, full of hate and disgust for him. 

“Your Kingliness.” Hearing Claude brought him back to his senses, and Dimitri stared at him with a wide eye. 

“Are you… going to just keep standing there?” Claude asked him. He shook the leaves he held up as a reminder of where Dimitri should be walking. 

"Pardon me... Yes, I'll go. Just..." He felt himself gulp. "... No, I'll go." He couldn't bring himself to admit out loud that he was afraid to see people again. He didn't look at Claude as he pushed past carefully, feeling nervous. He could not believe he was doing this all on the spur of a moment, all on the fear that Claude could die... He must be a fool. But he felt the bump of that cool bottle against his chest and he inhaled a shaking breath. That's right... It did not matter if he saw people again. He would not stain them, and he did not need to do what he must in that small cabin in the forest. That can happen after he delivered Claude to Almyra. If Claude needed him, and insisted on needing him, then he could put it off until then.

He could hear the shuffling of Claude's feet through the grass as he followed Dimitri down the dell. Together they approached the hamlet, but as they got closer both of them noticed at the same time a hand sticking out from behind a building, unmoving. Both of them froze. Then, without saying a word to each other, they both raced down the rest of the way, only to find themselves staring at the sight before them.

The place had been ravaged. Doors hang loosely off of their hinges, swaying weakly in the breeze. Something had sliced through parts of the ground and a cart, the pieces of wood splintered across the earth. Scorch markers of magic were everywhere. But that is not what caught Dimitri’s attention.

For the hamlet was also a graveyard. Bodies of the villagers were thrown about, eyes wide in horror and their mouths agape with their last screams of agony. Dimitri was stuck in place as he stared at each of the dead. Men, women… children. It was clear that whoever did this deed did not discriminate their victims. They all had been sliced through by some sort of blade, or burnt by powerful magic. A man was still holding his child as the two of them clung to each other in their last moments. One of the woman had a sword in her hand, but met her end with an attack through the chest. Not even the livestock was spared; bodies of chickens and cattle lay dead in their coops or still tied to their posts. The entire hamlet was dead, slaughtered like animals with no mercy. 

“Oh man…” breathed Claude as he processed the scene. He closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I was just here last week. I did not imagine the war would come down this far. This is… inhuman.” 

_Inhuman? No, NO. It was DEMONIC. They KILLED us, Dimitri, they KILLED us. It hurt! It hurt so badly! It hurt, it hurt! We can’t hurt them back! We want them dead. WE WANT THEM DEAD!_

Dimitri’s head was hung low. His body was shaking. Claude heard Dimitri start to mumble to himself and turned back to face him. 

“Your Kingliness?”

_Our king, OUR KING. Yes, where were you? Why didn’t you save us? We died! We died because you didn’t stop them!_

“Those… Those…” Dimitri’s fingers were clenched so hard that the metal of his gauntlet whimpered under the pressure. “Those… _**MONSTERS!**_ ” he roared. His outburst was so sudden and so violent that Claude found himself taking a startling step back. But Dimitri has completely forgotten that Claude was even there. With his lance in hand, he began to storm through the wreckage of the hamlet. Wood and burned metal snapped and moaned under the weight of his feet. In an instant, the soft-spoken prince went from a cowering cub to a blood-thirsty lion, dark and looming. His single eye was wild with anger. 

“Dimitri!” called out Claude. There was something in his voice Dimitri could not quite place, but he cared not. Claude’s words were drowned out by the sudden increase of chanting of voices. 

_Their heads! Get their heads! Avenge us! We want vengeance! Only you, only you! Make them pay!_

“I will, I will. I promise, I will make them pay,” he muttered with a contorted smile. “They will know the pain that you felt. They will-“ 

“DIMITRI!” And then there were arms wrapped around him, with the weight of a person rooting him to where he stood. It did not take long for the prince to realize that it was Claude, and he hissed at the duke. 

“Release me. I must find them. I must find those who dared raise a hand against the innocent!” 

“No one is here, Dimitri! Whoever it is, they are long gone!” 

“If you do not release me, then I will force you to!” Snarling, he reached to claw at Claude’s grip. “Filthy rats. I WILL find them. They shall suffer JUST as the people did!” 

But Claude only tightened his hold, despite knowing that it would probably be a fruitless endeavor the moment Dimitri ripped himself free. He could not match the prince’s brute strength; he was lucky that Dimitri wasn’t simply just dragging him across the ground even now. There was a moment that he felt that he perhaps was able to calm Dimitri down, until he felt Dimitri’s glove grab at his hand. Realizing the integrity of his bones may suddenly become compromised, Claude released his companion and jumped back. Still holding Claude’s hand, Dimitri spun around half-way. 

And got a good view of the duke’s face. The expression he bore was one of surprise, horror, and deep concern. His eyebrows were up and together; his mouth slightly open as he took quick, shallow breaths. There was a look in his eye that Dimitri could not place, but for some reason it was louder than any of the voices that screamed in his ear and it shook him to his core. Within seconds the anger was washed away from him and replaced with a wave of guilt and shame. With a gasp he let go of Claude as realization hit him like a dagger.

“…. Dimitri,” Claude’s voice was soft as that look he had had vanished. 

Seeing such gentleness finally broke the spell completely. At that, Dimitri’s knees gave out and he crumpled to the ground. As he gazed out towards all the unblinking eyes and silent screams, his heart hurt for them and he shook. He leaned against his shaft of his lance as he let out a stifled sob. “They… They hadn’t done anything wrong… They were mothers, fathers, children…” His emotions took control of his tongue; he could not stop his babble. 

Silently Claude crouched down beside him, watching him closely as the prince’s shoulders shook and trembled. No longer did he seem large and intimidating, but rather he now appeared small and helpless. Neither one said a word as they sat side by side; only the sound of Dimitri’s tear-filled breaths and the rustling of leaves as a soft breeze blew around them.

When some time had passed, Dimitri finally spoke to the duke. “I’m sorry, Claude,” his voice barely a whisper.” That was… unbecoming of me.” He turned his head away. “But you already knew, didn’t you. That I am a monster.” 

Claude was visibly taken aback. “What?”

“Why else would you enlist me to help you with your goals in Almyra?" There was pain woven in his tone. “I… never apologized for my behavior at Gronder, did I? We have spent a week together already, and yet I-“

“There’s no need for an apology, Dimitri!” Claude blurted out as his hand reached out and gripped the prince’s shoulder. “You’ve already proven yourself to me on the battlefield that you are not a monster. Do you not remember?” 

Instantly, Dimitri’s eye went wide and he jerked back at the warm touch. Claude’s hand released his shoulder and the prince cowered away, feeling shame burn at his cheeks. He pressed his forehead against the cool metal of his lance to help him focus and to help him calm his emotions. The voices were much softer now, and the faces shadowy once more. The fires of Duscur faded away. 

Claude was mistaken. Even after all this time, even after being alone without the need for revenge for nearly a month, that beast that lurked inside of him still lived. This... this was a mistake. He was a danger to people. A blood trail still followed him wherever he went, and the Goddess would never let him forget. He shouldn't be here, not even for Claude.

He could hear shuffling as the duke moved into a sitting position, close but not touching. “Actually, it is I who should apologize. I did not consider your needs well enough for this trip.”

Dimitri hung his head. “No, no I… I do not deserve an apology. You say I am not a monster, but just now I… I almost hurt you.” He lifted a quivering hand to stare at it with hatred as he choked out, “I would not have hesitated to break your arm just to go hunting those who killed these innocents. I was about to lay a hand on you. Only a bloodstained monster like me would even dare to think like that.” 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Claude replied gently. “You could have thrown me across the entirety of this hamlet, or snapped me in two instantly. But you didn’t. Besides, I did not ask you to come to Almyra because I thought you were a monster. In fact, far from it.” Then he stood up and extended a hand. “Now come on, Your Kingliness! There’s nothing for us here, and it’s getting late. We should find somewhere to rest, and I’m thinking this isn’t the best place.” 

This was true. Evening had fallen and light was fading fast. And yet, Dimitri did not move to receive Claude’s invitation. He stayed on the ground, paling at the hand reaching out to him. Rodrigue’s face danced across his vision and mocked him for his failures, for being unable to become the man he should have. Dimitri gulped. “No…. I should go back. It is a mistake for someone like me to-“

“Come on, none of that,” Claude said with insistence, a smile on his face but no glint in his eye. “I need someone like you. Did you not promise to protect me till I reached Almyra?” 

Those words rang true; Dimitri had made such a promise. But he had also promised the voices that he would hang Edelgard’s head from the gates on Enbarr, and he could no longer deliver on his word. He took a deep breath as he dared not touch Claude, instead deciding to stand up on his own. The smile did not falter from Claude’s face at the rejection. 

“I’ve broken a lot of promises, Claude.”

“I’m sure you will not break this one.” 

“You are gambling on a shell of a man.”

Claude’s smile widened. “I am confident about my chances.” 

Dimitri looked away. “And if I am unable to control myself again?”

“Then,” Claude placed his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers together to form a cradle. “I guess I will have to follow you.”

As those words echoed in Dimitri’s mind, his memory jumped to a month ago when he faced his beloved professor one last time. It had been after the great battle at Gronder, after he had driven those he had cared about to their deaths. Gustave. Rodrigue. The countless Kingdom soldiers who had put their faith in him, believing that he could lead them to victory. But Dimitri was a fool. He had thrown away tactics and thought in favor of blind rage, and it was those who had followed him who paid the price. When the dust had settled, and Dimitri saw what he had done… He realized he had failed. Failed them. Failed everyone. 

His throat felt dry.

“…Are you going to go after the perpetrators?” Claude’s voice sounded far away to Dimitri, bringing him back from his deep thoughts.

“… No.” The prince clutched at his chest, palming the vial he bore through his cloak. “I made my decision after Gronder.” He must not lead Claude to his death too. This time, he was going to follow someone else.

There was then a cough from his right, and Dimitri turned his head to see Claude clutching his stomach as his face contorted with agony. Claude lowered himself onto his knees and pressed his palm into the ground to support himself.

“Claude!” Dimitri dropped his weapon. It clattered to the ground as he spun around to fully face the duke. He crouched down and inched closer with concern. “What happened?”

“Ah, sorry.” Claude grinned through his pain and offered Dimitri a sly wink. “It’s just a wound.” 

“This is not a laughing matter, Claude!” exclaimed the prince. “Did… Did I hurt you? Oh Claude, I am-“

“Nonsense. Urg,” Claude shook his head as best he could. “This is from Gronder. Although…. Ngh, I think I just aggravated it.” 

_When I held you back_ was not said out loud, but Dimitri knew that is when it must have happened. Claude had squeezed him hard and desperately, trying to stop a man much larger than himself from turning into the beast that he was. A shadow passed over the prince’s face, but he refrained from breaking down. 

“But that was nearly a month ago! Why didn’t you go to Marianne to get it healed, or any other healer in your army?” He was in disbelief. “Did you really come looking for me with an untended wound?” 

Even in his situation, Claude let out a chuckle. “It’s a long story, and one… hn, I’m not really in a position to tell at the moment. I just... need a second, then we can... ngh...” Dimitri watched as Claude winced again, and something snapped inside of him.

The fear of staining Claude washed away, and a strange, protective instinct kicked in. Snaking Claude’s arm over his shoulder and wrapping his arm around Claude’s waist, Dimitri helped the duke up to his feet. He could feel the smaller man’s muscles’ tense up as he let out a small moan. How Claude managed to make it this long without reopening or aggravating such a wound, Dimitri could not guess. It was not like Claude to be so reckless.

“I do not understand you, Claude,” Dimitri muttered. “I am worthless. Useless. Was I so critical to your plan that you came aimlessly looking for me while still injured?” 

Although he could not see it, Claude’s eyes had gone wide at suddenly being held up like this, when before Dimitri dared not even take his hand. A large smile crept across his face. “Yes. You were.” He did not have the energy to correct Dimitri on his self-depredation. He would work on that later. 

This was dumbfounding to the prince. He shook his head as he gathered up his weapon, before securing Claude better to his side. “Why did you pick me?” 

Claude leaned his head against Dimitri's shoulder as he gripped him close for support. Despite his pain, there was still that pleased, warm smile. “Because I wanted to.”

Even now, the duke was cryptic. The prince found himself frowning, but he did not press further, nor did he shrug Claude's head away. “I suppose you there is much that you want.”

“Once. But now, ngh… I only really want one thing.” 

“And what is that?”

A chuckle. “It’s a secret.”

A secret? What does that mean? But before Dimitri could say anything further, Claude pointed up the road towards the other side of the forest, where there was a small opening into the thicket of trees. "We should go that way... There should be another village... ngh, just a little farther. If we leave now, we should make it before... the inn closes."

Dimitri glanced down at him. The duke was pale and shaking slightly, and Dimitri's heart sank. Although a thousand questions danced in his head, that mattered not now. With a firm grip on Claude, he began to guide Claude towards the path, stepping past all the bodies of the innocents. He did not know who did it, nor did the whispers tell him. Instead, they begged for revenge, they called him names, and the echoes of their dying screams followed behind him as they left the graveyard behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Protective instincts trump all, even fear of touching others.
> 
> Typically, I don't upload chapters so quickly, but this is kind of an exception because I guess it's DimitrixClaude week and I just happened to upload during this time. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I do read the comments and I appreciate all the kudos and bookmarks. Honestly, it's thanks to your kindness that made me want to keep writing. You didn't have to say anything, but you did, and from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I love to hear your thoughts. 
> 
> Um... this is weird for me, but I wanted to try something. Let me know if it's weird, but I see people share their twitter accounts and stuff. Well, I don't have a twitter, but I thought it would be nice to have some way for people to see when I plan to update this piece so... I made a tumblr page. It that weird? Tell me if that's weird. Anyways, you can [See it here](https://evilcriticfromhellstories.tumblr.com/) for updates if you would like.


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